


Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel)

by tjmystic



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 21:51:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2748374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjmystic/pseuds/tjmystic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arwen has another nightmare/vision about Aragorn's death</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel)

Lullaby (Goodnight My Angel), an Aragorn/Arwen fic  
Billy Joel Fic #2

Rating: R

Author’s Note: Alright, and here is the OTP that provided the desktop picture for my laptop for over three years. Like all the other ships I’m writing for the Billy Joel series, I have to wonder why I didn’t try writing about these two sooner. But hey, at least I got to practice with plenty of Rumbelle smut first. Plenty, plenty of Rumbelle smut :}… Oh, and before I forget, I’d like to offer a special shout-out to absinthe—minded for helping me with the Elvish references and LotR history. Thanks so much, lovely! Couldn’t have done this properly without you :)

 

She stood in the Rath Dinen once more. 

It was cold here in the crypt. It was always so cold. The people surrounding her offered no warmth, consumed by their own grief and despair. Unhindered by the dark veil that shrouded her, snow began to cover her skin.

She was alone. 

Her eyelids fluttered shut. But she could not keep them that way. Against her will, she was wholly aware of the spectacle before her. Of the man, laid out in all his finery on the stone bench by her feet. Of her love, the only love she’d ever known, gone from this world. 

Shivering, she lifted her hand from the folds of her gown, and traced it down his cheek. It was so worn now. Her love was… was, an old man. Wrinkled, disheveled, barren. But she never aged. The hand that touched his face was just as smooth and pure as the one that first touched him nearly two-hundred years ago. She was cursed to remain young while he withered and died. She was cursed to outlive the only man, the only human, who’d ever claimed her heart. 

The world went black. Fire, darker than the flames of Mount Doom, pulled at her veil. But all she felt was cold. Only cold. Only fear. Only alone. 

“Come back!” she shouted into the abyss. “Estel, come back!”

“ _Arwen_?”

“Come back!”

“ _Arwen, wake up_!”

“Come back…”

“Arwen!”

Her eyes flashed open. Darkness surrounded her still, but now, she could see through it. No fire, no graves, no cold dead fingers. The room around her was soft and made of marble, not the unforgiving stone she’d just seen. Her mourning robes were nowhere in sight. She stretched, and realized she was naked, and warm, and safe in her bed. She almost sobbed in relief. 

“Estel,” she whimpered. “Estel, you’re still here.” 

Her husband curled her closer, the bristles of his chin brushing her forehead. His face loomed over hers, beautiful gray eyes staring at her with love and concern, and her heart swelled. Though not young, her husband was not old. He was here, and alive. 

“Arwen, Arwen, mani marte?”

She nuzzled into him, taking comfort in the press of his naked body on hers.

“I had the nightmare again,” she whispered. “The same one as before.” 

Aragorn hummed, and rolled her under him, shielding her from the rest of the world. The tune morphed, settling into something low and mournful, and she smiled. Of course he would sing her a lullaby after she’d had a bad dream. Of course it would be their song, the Ballad of Beren and Luthien. 

Wind, whistling in from the open window, wafted over them. She neither felt nor heard it, though, beyond the prickling of goosebumps on her husband’s back. She was too absorbed in him. 

She petted his shoulders, kissing his neck to let him know how she appreciated him. He only separated from her, though, when she’d stopped shaking. 

“Do you need to talk of it?” he asked carefully. “Or I could always sing you back to sleep.” 

“I am no child, Estel,” she smirked, swinging her leg over his hip to let him know she was merely teasing him. “And besides, your singing would only keep me awake.” 

He snorted, and pinched her side for her cheek. She allowed herself to laugh, and snuggled closer. It was difficult, though, to keep the smile on her face, when, every time she shut her eyes, she saw the cold stone crypt and her love’s lifeless body. 

Sighing, she turned in her husband’s arms, spooning up behind him while his arm wound around her waist. His breath was hot on her neck, the hair on his arm real and rugged, but it could not soothe her mind. How much longer did they have like this? What if, when next she blinked, she found that thirty years had gone by? Forty? What if he was already dead? 

His thumb stroked the pale skin above her breast, distracting her, however briefly. He murmured something soft into the skin of her neck, so quiet that, even with her Elven hearing, she could not discern the words. Curious, she curved her neck back so she could see his face. His eyes, worried but brimming with life only moments ago, were now creased with pain. As were the lines about his face. Her heart thrummed – it had been long since she’d seen him so conflicted. 

“I asked…” He paused, reclining his head as if he wanted to touch her but was too afraid to. “Do you regret your choice, Arwen? To stay with me?”

Her body froze. Though she had just turned not a moment before, she flipped back around to face him. 

“What?”

His eyes left her, dropping away as if ashamed. “You have this dream so often, vanimelda. I cannot help but wonder… should I have let you go. Should I have let you sail into the west with your father.”

His hand brushed the skin of her back as if it might leave her. Before he could even begin to move, though, she clamped it in place, wedging herself firmly against his body. She could feel all the planes of him against her, now, pressed taut to her skin, and, by the sudden darkening of his eyes, she could tell that her husband did, too. But she did not let the feeling, however wondrous, distract her. 

“Estel, look at me,” she commanded. He did as she bade in an instant, something that, even now, could not keep her from smiling. His love and respect for her never ceased to burn her heart. “Estel, whyever would you think that I regret you? That I regret this choice?” 

He opened his mouth, likely to repeat what he’d already said. She took her chance, though, stopping him before he could even begin by nestling her lips against his. It worked instantaneously. Her beloved was a wise, gentle man, but in some matters, he was still just that – a man.

Like coming home, his tongue danced into her mouth, drawing her into him effortlessly. His arm, no longer having to be held in place, wound around her even tighter, squeezing her breasts into the hard muscles of his chest. They both moaned, the sound echoing inside their mouths, but she refused to give into it. They could know each other in a moment – she had to tell him this, first. 

“Estel,” she hummed, wrapping her hand about his neck to keep him close. “Do you not remember the words I said so many years ago? When we sat in my room, the morning before you left with Frodo and the rest of the fellowship?” 

A muscle at the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. The moonlight glinted off his cool, devilish smile. “You told me that you would rather share one lifetime with me, then face all the ages of this world alone.”

“And that has not changed. I still call you Estel, my love, not because it was the name I first knew you by, but because that is what you are to me. My hope. My heart was lost to you long ago, and I would not change it for any amount of comfort.”

“But, Arwen –”

She silenced him with another kiss. He was less easily distracted this time, but no less passionate. It was likely ridiculous how much she loved that about him. 

“But nothing,” she murmured. “I am cursed to see the things that have yet to pass, just as my grandmother before me. But do not think, even for one moment, that that will keep me from enjoying the present. Every moment here, every moment with you, is more than I ever could have dreamed. Our love is not something I take lightly.” 

Warm breath gusted over her face as he exhaled. “That is not all that troubles me, vanimelda. I learned long ago the depths of your love, but I worry, at times, that you don’t understand mine.” 

She opened her mouth, but, this time, he interrupted her. 

“Arwen, we both know that I am mortal,” he murmured. “We both know that this body will turn to ash and dust long before yours ever does. But I fear that you think this means I will leave you. And I will not. A part of this flesh, however insignificant, will follow you to the ends of this earth. And I will never, never, leave you.”

His thumb darted out to catch the tears at the corner of her eye. 

“Amin mela lle,” he whispered to her, grey eyes staring darkly into hers. “Ilyamenie.”

“Estel,” she murmured. 

Whatever else she might have said was forgotten in the heat of his mouth. Slowly, gently, he cradled her in his arms, all but rocking her as he laid her down beneath him, lining his body with every inch of hers. Their tongues met once more, touching lips and teeth and flesh. 

And then, her fingers traced the sharp points of his spine, and they were both lost to the night.

When he moved in her, twining their hands together so that every inch of them touched, her body sang. It was not the first time they had been together, not by twenty years, but it still felt so new and beautiful to feel like this. To feel like one soul, trapped in two bodies. Whatever he thought to the contrary, she always knew, in moments like this, that she had made the right choice. 

And, for once, she also knew that her vision was wrong. Yes, he would die before his time. Yes, he would leave her before she was truly ready to let go. But she would not be alone. She would have her children, their children. They would be her reminders of the time they’d spent together, and proof of love they still shared. They would surround her with warmth and comfort, unlike the cold people she always imagined in her dreams.

But, more than that, she would have him. Not his body, anymore, nor his mind, but his heart. His soul. Those would stay with her forever.

As would the memory of him holding her close, singing her lullabies as they fell asleep.

For the first time in a fortnight, she brushed away the fears of years to come, and dreamed of the happiness they had yet to discover. 

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

_Goodnight my angel, time to close your eyes_  
And save these questions for another day  
I think I know what you’ve been asking me  
I think you know what I’ve been trying to say  
I promised I would never leave you  
Then you should always know  
Wherever you may go, no matter where you are  
I never will be far away

_Goodnight my angel, now it’s time to sleep_  
And still so many things I want to say  
Remember all the songs you sang for me  
When we went sailing on an emerald bay  
And like a boat out on the ocean  
I’m rocking you to sleep  
The water’s dark and deep, inside this ancient heart  
You’ll always be a part of me

_Goodnight my angel, now it’s time to dream_  
And dream how wonderful your life will be  
Someday your child may cry, and if you sing this lullaby  
Then in your heart there will always be a part of me  
Someday we’ll all be gone  
But lullabies go on and on  
They never die  
That’s how you and I will be

 

* mani marte = what happened?  
**vanimelda = beautiful one  
*** Amin mela lle = I love you  
**** Ilyamenie = always


End file.
